


the inbetweens

by orphan_account



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Muggle Technology, do people still read jily, i do but i honestly have no idea if anyone else does which is sad, james and sirius acting like 10 year olds over a tv, marauders are baby and i cant let them go, probably wolfstar in pt 2
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-21
Updated: 2020-04-21
Packaged: 2021-03-02 01:27:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,934
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23776831
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: There are a lot of reasons why Lily Evans has not yet invited the Marauders to her house. When they tumble through her fireplace on December 30, 1977, she learns that these reasons were completely justified.
Relationships: James Potter/Lily Evans Potter
Comments: 3
Kudos: 36





	the inbetweens

**Author's Note:**

> haha yeah no quarantine isn't getting to my head don't be silly!!!! i just reread commentarius which i've been reading for at least five years of my life and stuck myself down a hole that isn't really relevant anymore :))) anyway i hope this isn't as terrible as i kind of feel like it is. it sort of spiraled out of control. it was supposed to be a fluffy oneshot that lasted >5000 words but no!! apparently i don't have self control.

Years ago, Lily had loved those few extra days after Christmas.

It had always felt strangely devoid of much responsibility, stuck safely between two holidays with plenty of time to go before school started up again. She and Petunia used to help their mother take down the Christmas decorations, dancing and twirling around the house, careless and happy and close. They would clutch cheap plastic hair brushes in their hands and screech the lyrics to Disney songs.

It wasn’t like that now. 

It hadn’t been for quite some time—six or so years—but the difference never failed to pierce Lily right through her chest. Now, Petunia was out with her brick-headed excuse for a boyfriend, so she wasn’t there to help their mother take down the last of the lights from the front door, and there was a strange melancholy to the air. There was no Disney music, no laughing sisters. Her parents shuffled about, occasionally speaking but in soft, tired voices that told Lily all she needed to know.

The first few years hadn’t been as bad; she’d had Sev to run to when things felt especially terrible, but after the catastrophe that was fifth year Lily was firm in her belief that the two of them would not ever be friends again.

So she spent most of the winter hols sitting through awkward family meals, wishing she was back at Hogwarts.

“Lily, dear,” called her mother from the doorway, pulling down the rest of the garland, “can you hand me that box?”

“Sure, Mum.” 

Lily flicked her wand, floating the box over to Iris Evans, who gave her a little bewitched smile like she did every time her daughter did magic. It was something Lily hadn’t considered before she turned seventeen at the start of the year; she’d been so used to her parents and their knowledge of her magic that she hardly even thought that they’d never seen it in action.

“How does lasagna sound for dinner?” asked her mother as she packed the decorations into the box. She shot Lily a wide, hopeful smile. “You and Petunia both love it.”

Lily withheld a wince. She felt bad for her parents, who never understood why their daughters, once best friends, could barely stand to be in one another’s presence. “Lasagna sounds brilliant,” said Lily. “I’m sure Tuney will be delighted.”

Iris shot Lily a tiny grateful look. “It’s settled, then,” she declared, clapping her hands together. “Henry, can you preheat the oven for me?”

There was some rustling, scattered footsteps, then Henry Evans’s head appeared at the top of the staircase. “Lasagna?”

“Don’t you remember how much our girls used to love it?”

Lily’s father grinned. “How could I forget? They only stormed around the house like bloody banshees at its mere mention.”

“Simpler times,” said Lily, dryly, and her father gave a little laugh.

“Speaking of Petunia,” said Iris, giving her husband and daughter a brief, scolding look. “Do you think she’d like to have Vernon over for dinner? He hasn’t eaten with the whole Evans clan since the summer.”

Lily didn’t even attempt to restrain the groan of misery that escaped her mouth. “Because Vernon is a nasty brute who Tuney spoon-feeds all kinds of terrible slander about me, Mum,” she said, for what felt like the hundred-thousandth time. “He’ll just spend the entire time looking down his abnormally large nose at me.”

A smile twitched at the edge of her mother’s lips, but Iris was quick to flatten her expression to its most stern. “It would mean a lot to your sister, Lily.”

“It won’t,” Lily responded flatly, then sighed. “But I know it means a lot to you and Dad, so if that’s what it takes, I’ll suffer through one meal, even if I have to hear Vernon bustle on about drills for hours.”

Iris shook her head, but this time she made no effort to quell the smile curling her mouth. “I’m sure it won’t be too terrible.”

Lily sneaked a glance at her father, and caught him staring amusedly at her. Neither of her parents were huge fans of their eldest daughter’s choice in suitors, but Henry Evans was far more vocal about his opinions. Though never to Tuney or Vernon’s faces, of course. They had to maintain some semblance of manners.

Lily opened her mouth to continue the good-natured argument and perhaps mention that, yes, it definitely  _ could _ be that terrible, when something thumped to the ground behind her. Something  _ human _ , if she went by the litany of grumbles and curses.

Her parents were no longer looking at her. They gaped openly at the space behind Lily, eyes full of questions and perhaps some mild fear, and Lily knew before she began to turn around that she wouldn’t like what she saw.

Though Sirius Black was very low on the list of things she would have guessed, if he’d been on it at all.

Lily blinked, then blinked again, then came to the reluctant conclusion that  _ no _ , she wasn’t hallucinating. Sirius Black was indeed sprawled across the rug she’d had in her living room since she was ten, and he didn’t even look apologetic about it.

“Evans,” he acknowledged, lifting a soot-smudged hand in a brief salute. “Fancy seeing you here.”

Before Lily could even begin to open her mouth and sputter out a few strongly-worded questions, another figure tumbled out of the Evans fireplace in a bout of green flame, landing rather gracelessly upon Sirius’s person. 

The figure rolled quickly off his counterpart, who was doing a bit more groaning and grumbling, and raised a sheepish hand in greeting. “Hello, Lily.” Remus Lupin’s eyes flickered from Lily to her parents. “Er. Mr. and Mrs. Evans.”

“ _ Remus _ ?” Lily sputtered, incredulous. “What in Merlin’s name are you two—”

And, of course, Lily shouldn’t have been surprised when someone else tripped out of her fireplace, dusting ash off his pants. “James is getting the invitation,” panted Peter Pettigrew, the top of his head narrowly missing the brickwork of the fireplace. He caught Lily’s eye and gave her a guilty smile. “Hullo, Lily.”

Lily narrowed her eyes. “Don’t tell me this was  _ James’s _ —”

She shouldn’t have bothered talking until all four of those lunatics were in her living room, because she was cut off again when James Potter stumbled out of the swath of emerald flames, something clutched in his hand. He stopped short when he noticed the disbelieving stares of three-fourths of the Evans family.

“Oh,” he said, and his hand flew up like he was going to ruffle his hair, but stopped halfway, falling awkwardly to his side. “Hey.”

Lily gaped at him. “Hey?” she repeated. “ _ Hey _ ? What the hell are you doing in my living room?”

James winced. “Well. Er. I was going to invite you to—” He broke off, looking embarrassed. “Maybe you should just read it.”

He held out the parchment in his hand, and cautiously Lily took it from him, unfolding it and reading the elegant script inked there.  _ New Year’s Eve Spectacular: Courtesy of Fleamont and Euphemia Potter _ , it read. “New Year’s party,” she said aloud, eyebrows flying up. She looked back to James, then around to the others. “You Floo’d to my house with all three of your mates to invite me to a  _ New Year’s party _ ?”

He frowned. “I suppose it wasn’t—”

“Why didn’t you just owl me?” Lily demanded, and suddenly realized the feeling in her chest wasn’t anger or even disbelief. It was giddiness. How utterly James of him, to Floo himself and his three best friends to her house just to give her a party invitation!

This time, James made no move to stop his hand from flying up to the hair at the back of his head. Behind him, Sirius snorted. “What did we tell you, mate?”

James ignored him. “You mentioned you’d be home alone over break,” he told her, and Lily noted that his cheeks were a bit pinker than usual. “Because Emma and Dorcas were going abroad with their families. I, er.” He messed up his hair some more. “I figured you might want company.”

Lily couldn’t stop the laugh that burst out of her. She clapped her hands over her mouth, shaking her head. “You’re all mental,” she decided, hoping they didn’t see her grin. “Honestly, I shouldn’t have expected anything less.”

All four boys stared at her, expressions full of suspicion—Sirius—mild surprise—Peter—amusement—Remus—and incredulity—James. 

Slowly, James relaxed, hand dropping to his side. “You shouldn’t have,” he agreed, face contorting into a mocking reprimand. “Honestly, Evans, you’ve only known us seven years.”

She’d nearly forgotten her parents were standing in the room with them, but when the distinctive voice of her mother cleared her throat politely, Lily flushed, spinning on her heel. She heard the Marauders scramble into a better attempt at good behavior. 

Iris and Henry had lost that baffled, starstruck look. Now they just looked like parents waiting for an explanation for the chaos that had just tumbled into their living room. 

“Lily,” said Iris, arms crossed despite the little twinkle in her eye. “Would you like to introduce us to your friends?”

Henry looked less amused. “Yes,” he said, assessing the boys with a coldness only retained by a father speaking to his daughter’s male companions. “Please.”

Face burning, Lily stepped aside. “Mum, Dad, meet James Potter, Remus Lupin, Sirius Black, and Peter Pettigrew.” She raised her eyebrows. “Long-time banes of my academic existence and recent friends.”

Her mother’s own brows shot up. “You don’t say,” she replied, making no attempt to conceal the mirth swimming in her voice. Lily restrained a scowl; she’d spent many a winter holiday complaining about the group of boys who liked nothing better than terrorizing Hogwarts and its residents. Iris would no doubt find it supremely interesting that Lily had failed to mention this newfound camaraderie.

James was the first to step forward, his back ramrod straight and his face brightened by the force of his smile. “Mr. and Mrs. Evans,” he greeted, and Lily wondered when James Potter had learned to be such a picture of civility. “It’s such a pleasure to meet you both. I apologize for the—er, unwarranted entrance.”

Iris smiled kindly back, taking his outstretched hand and shaking it once. “The pleasure is all ours, Mr. Potter,” she said, and Lily watched that little glimmer in her eye with no small amount of suspicion. “Don’t worry yourself over it. Our fireplace will recover. Though I must admit that is a magical quirk Lily has failed to ever mention to us.”

“I didn’t exactly think I’d ever need to,” Lily deadpanned. 

“How silly of you, Evans,” exclaimed Sirius theatrically, tutting in disapproval. “You never know when a wizard might get it into his head to Floo to your house.” He gave Iris and Henry a quick bow. “Sirius Black.”

“Simmer down, Padfoot,” Remus scolded flatly. “No need to lay all your dramatics upon the floor you have just tripped onto.”

“Because your entrance was so graceful, Moony.”

“I’m the Peter Pettigrew Lily mentioned,” said Peter quickly, before Remus and Sirius could continue to squabble. “Your daughter has always been very kind, even when I might not have deserved it.”

The flattery seemed to please Henry, who gave a brisk nod. “Our Lily has always been better at kindness than anyone I’ve ever known,” he agreed.

Lily shook her head, tucking a wayward strand of hair behind her ear. “I’ll come to your party, James,” she said at last, then cast her parents a questioning sideways glance. “If it’s okay with Mum and Dad.”

Henry sighed. “Yes, go on to your magical house party and leave your poor old dad to sit around with Vernon Dursley. I see how it is.”

Iris elbowed him lightly. “Don’t be rude, Henry,” she said, smiling. “Lily, your father and I would love for you to go to your friend’s for New Year’s. And,” she continued, “since that isn’t until tomorrow night, I’d love it if your friends wanted to stay for dinner, if it wouldn’t be too much trouble. Henry and I are making lasagna.”

James grinned back, still the epitome of good manners. “That sounds wonderful, Mrs. Evans.”

“Agreed,” said Remus.

Lily’s mother patted Remus on the shoulder, and Lily realized with a strange mixture of dread and relief that her parents  _ liked _ the Marauders. They tolerated all the people Petunia brought about, even Vernon, with all his rude blustering and shameless arrogance, but they seemed to truly like these new friends. Which was strange. Very, very strange.

“Please, call me Iris,” said her mother kindly, which Lily was fairly sure she’d never said to Vernon, though that might have been because the presumptuous lug had started calling Petunia’s parents by their first names by the end of their first night of acquaintance.

And then, with an unpleasant jolt, Lily remembered her conversation with her parents before the intrusion.  _ Oh, bloody hell _ , she thought.  _ Vernon and Petunia _ .

Vernon and Petunia, who, if the night went according to her mother’s plans—and it would, because Iris Evans had a way of getting what she wanted—would be sitting at the table alongside the Marauders and Lily. Which meant that Petunia would positively lose her mind. It would be nothing short of a disaster, but then again—

Perhaps Tuney deserved a bit of disaster, after all the ignoring she’d participated in over the winter hols. No doubt it would be amusing, if Lily could get over her initial nervousness. Which she’d have to, because she wasn’t about to give Petunia the satisfaction of seeing her ruffled by that old animosity. 

“Lily?” came her mother’s voice, and Lily’s head whipped up. Iris gave her a reassuring smile, as if reading her thoughts, and said, “Your father and I have to get started on dinner. Why don’t you show your friends around?”

Lily blinked. “Sure,” she said, not sure what to expect of this. She didn’t get the chance to say so, though, because her parents wasted no time hanging around any longer, turning and disappearing in the direction of the kitchen.

She was left to stare at the Marauders, who were taking this chance to twist their heads about to get a better view of the Evans’s living room.   
“Oy, Prongs!” called Sirius from where he was now standing before the television. “Look at this thing. The Muggles call it a _telly_. Brilliant, isn’t it?”

James grinned, delighted. The television caught his and Sirius’s attention quite securely; they seemed to forget the reason they were there at all. “Doesn’t it show pictures? They mentioned something in Muggle Studies, but I’ve never  _ seen _ one—”

“Moving pictures!” cried Sirius. “Like ours. Isn’t that right, Evans?”

“Yes, Sirius,” said Lily. The two of them were always so assured; she’d never given much thought to how they’d react to Muggle technology. She’d never have guessed Sirius Black and James Potter would be reduced to children in a toy store by a Muggle television. “Most tell stories, like plays.”

“Brill!” exclaimed James. “How does it work?”

“Should you really be doing all that?” Peter asked nervously. He and Remus—half-bloods, of course—were remarkably more sane when it came to the novelty that had captured their best mates’ attention. “We already barged in through their fireplace.”

Lily laughed. “Mooning over the TV is hardly the most destructive thing they’ve done,” she said wryly. “Sit on the sofa. I’ll turn it on. Then I’ll take you all on the tour my parents were so adamant about.”

With a whoop of delight, James plopped himself down on the couch cushions, Sirius in his wake. Remus and Peter followed with a bit more dignity while Lily shuffled about for the remote. When she found it, she stood in front of the sofa.

“Move your fat arse, Black,” said Lily lightly, shoving herself between James and Sirius. “I’ll show you how this thing works.”

While Sirius grumbled on about how his arse was _a perfectly reasonable size,_ _thank you very much_ , Lily held out the remote. “The red button turns it on and off,” she explained, keeping her face as straight as possible. “These control volume, these control channels, and these two pause and play when you need to.” She grinned, holding it out of their reach. “Do with that what you will.”

James wasted no time. He leapt for the remote, and with a yelp of surprise Lily curled in on herself. “Get  _ off _ , you bloody madman!” she cried through giggles. “I’ll give you the damn remote!”

He was smiling too when he took it from her, and their gazes caught each other’s long enough for Lily’s heart to skip a few errant beats before Sirius grew impatient.

“Oy!” he snapped, jerking the remote from James’s hands. “Failed the bloody mission already, Prongs! Some  _ loyalty _ , if you please.”

James kicked him. “You’re a tetchy thing, aren’t you, Padfoot?” 

“Bloody hell! You’re a  _ violent  _ thing. Maybe get that checked out—” 

Remus elbowed him. “Quit whining,” he said. “Poor Lily already has to deal with you in her home. Don’t make her suffer through your screeching as well.”

Sirius said something decidedly uncomplimentary under his breath, but obeyed. “Fine,” he said. “The red button, you said, Evans?”

Lily shrugged. “Maybe you should listen instead of sputtering about like a deaf grandmother,  _ Black _ .”

“Again with the attacks!” said Sirius, but his lips were twitching. “Alright. The lady says it’s the red button. Prongs, would you give me a countdown, please?”

James did, with a grand flair of dramatics and unnecessary arm-waving, and Sirius mashed the button with enough force to break it. Thankfully, the remote remained intact and the television blinked to life. The two madmen who called themselves Lily’s friends gave countless cheers and much exuberant applause. 

Remus leaned over to Lily and said, “I hope you realize you are creating monsters. They can hardly handle the power they have with magic. They hardly need more tools for destruction.”

“I suppose the fault is all mine,” said Lily, watching James and Sirius wrangle over the remote. “I’ll face the consequences like a true Gryffindor.”

Remus snorted. “You have no choice.”

“Brilliant!” James was crowing. It seemed to be his favorite word at present. “Padfoot, this one’s about a shark who  _ eats people _ !”

“Oh, Merlin,” said Lily, dropping her head into her hand. “Not  _ Jaws _ .”

“Wicked,” breathed Sirius. “Evans, have you seen this one?”

“Unfortunately.”

Sirius looked delighted. “Is there blood? Limbs flung about? I imagine sharks aren’t particularly careful about hygiene when they consume human flesh.”

“Remus, I’ve changed my mind. I’m taking the cowardly route. You were right.” Lily shook her head. “I’m sorry I ever doubted you.”

“Come on, Lil!” James pleaded before Remus could respond, turning away from  _ Jaws _ for a moment to look at Lily. “You’ve got to tell us everything about this telly play.”

Lily tried her very hardest not to smile. “It’s called a film, James,” she corrected, then cast one last desperate look at Remus and Peter, but both were staring determinedly at the screen, avoiding her entreating gaze. “Traitors,” she hissed to them both, then resigned herself to her fate. 

As it turned out, James and Sirius were interested enough in Lily’s half-arsed summary of the plot of  _ Jaws _ to keep quiet for most of it. 

“Genius,” James decided when she’d finished. “Muggles are  _ genius _ . I’d have never thought to make a play about a shark who eats people, but it makes perfect sense. I mean, of course people are paying to see it! It’s brill!”

“Perhaps you should consider a career in the Muggle film department,” Lily suggested, amused.

“I will,” declared James. “I’ll get them to write one about  _ rabbits _ who eat people. How’s that sound, Padfoot?”

“Legendary,” said Sirius. “I reckon the Muggles will thank you for the rest of their lives, Prongs.”

James made a noise of agreement, but before he could go on to think up any more films about carnivorous animals, Lily jumped to her feet. “No more television for James and Sirius,” she said flatly, levitating the remote out of Sirius’s unexpecting hands. “You’ll go madder than you already are.”

They both made to protest, springing off the sofa with twin expressions of indignance, but Lily shoved the remote behind her back, shaking her head. “You’ve been cut off,” she told them sternly. “This is an intervention. But never fear,” she continued loudly, as they sputtered and scowled, “I’m sure you’ll both find yourselves consumed by something or another in the next five minutes.”

“Rubbish,” grumbled James.

“Don’t be such a priss, Evans,” Sirius sniffed.

“C’mon,” said Lily, ignoring them both and winking at Remus. “I’ll show you around. No doubt dinner will be ready soon.”

Remus and Peter followed her merrily, obviously relieved to be free of the gory ramblings of their barmy mates, at least momentarily. James and Sirius trudged along with a bit more reluctance, but their laughably short attention spans didn’t allow them to be grumpy for much longer.

“No,” Lily said as soon as they reached the closed door of her bedroom, before anyone could open their mouths. “No, no, and did I mention  _ no _ ?”

The four of them stared at her with varying degrees of insult coloring their faces.

Instantly, the protests began.

“Lily, didn’t your parents say a tour of the  _ whole _ house?” James prodded.

“Secrets to keep, Evans?” Sirius snickered.

Remus rolled his eyes, but he was smirking. “You two have no sense of propriety at all.”

“You don’t have to show us your room, Lily,” said Peter kindly.

“First of all,” Lily began, glowering at the two overgrown twelve-year-olds, “ _ no _ , James, my parents didn’t say that. They only said to show you around, not to let your wandering, perverted eyes into every private place in my house. Second,” she went on, before he could argue, “yes, Sirius, I have secrets— _ everyon _ e has secrets, you insolent git—but just because I don’t want four teenage boys scrounging around my room doesn’t mean I’m keeping anything from you.”

“You sound defensive, Evans,” Sirius remarked casually, crossing his arms and looking far too smug for someone who’d just been put in his place.

James’s ears were quickly turning red. “My eyes are not  _ perverted _ ,” he muttered. When Lily cocked a brow in question, he amended, “Well, at least not right  _ now _ . C’mon, Lily. I’ve got a tad more decency than that.”

Lily believed him, but she wasn’t about to tell him that. “Nevertheless, we are continuing on with our tour.” She turned away from her bedroom door, charming the lock for good measure and waving them along with her. 

“Do you have an automobile?” inquired James from behind her. 

Lily spun on her heel, walking backwards to face him. “A car, you mean?” she asked, grinning. “No one calls them automobiles outside of history class. And yes, I do.”

James looked intrigued. “Can you drive it?”

She nodded. “I got my license last summer. I had nothing else to do when Emma and Dorcas weren’t around, and I couldn’t Apparate, so I figured I might as well.”

“A jack of many trades,” Sirius declared grandly. “A respectable title you’ve made for yourself there, Evans.”

“Oh, how you flatter me, Sirius Black,” Lily deadpanned. 

“I never learned to drive,” said Remus, leaning against the railing. He gave a sheepish smile. “I’m not sure why. That was certainly smart of you, Lily.”

“I tried,” said Peter glumly. “But I figured I was going to struggle enough when it came to Apparating. It didn’t seem worth the trouble.”

“Wormtail killed a squirrel,” James clarified. “He’s sensitive.”

“It didn’t do anything!” exclaimed Peter, shooting James a glare. “And I just killed it! How would you feel if a big metal machine came out of nowhere and spilled all your organs onto the ground?”

“It wasn’t your fault, Peter,” Lily assured him, patting his hand. “It happens to everyone.”

“Of course,” James agreed. “Everyone. Squirrels die on impact all the time, Pete. No need to worry yourself—” He yelped in pain when Lily punched him in the arm, glaring at her. “Bloody hell, woman! Keep those flailing limbs to yourself, would you?” He rubbed his shoulder.

“Don’t be a git, James,” said Lily. “Dumbledore might overhear and revoke your position as Head Boy.”

“Suck up,” he sneered.

“Prat.”

“Madwoman.”

“Insufferable arseh—”

“Ladies, ladies,” Sirius interrupted, voice dripping sarcasm. “Leave the flirting for later, okay?”

Lily scowled at him. “Careful, Black. You could slip very easily off the railing. Perhaps if you landed on your head your brain would be shocked into proper function. Though I have my doubts.”

“Oh, how  _ clever _ you are, Lily Evans!” Sirius exclaimed, throwing a hand upon his heart. “What wit! How shall I ever recover?”

“I have a few ideas,” Lily said darkly. She turned away when he made a face at her. “Come on. I’ll show you the lower floor now.”

“Lily,” came James’s voice. “You’re going to be at my house tomorrow night. You know that, right? And you have no curiosity at all about what my away-from-Hogwarts living space may look like? None?”

“You still want to see inside my room,” she guessed flatly.

“I’m simply  _ saying _ that if you decide you want to see  _ my _ bedroom tomorrow, and all the secrets stowed away inside it, I require a trade.”

Lily glowered. “You are an obstinate pain and I hate you,” she told him. “Stay here and don’t touch anything. All of you. I’m going to make sure it doesn’t look like a hurricane just rampaged through so you and your terrible excuse for a mate will stop whining at me.”

“You’re the light of my life, Lily Evans!” he called after her. Lily made a rude gesture in reply, shutting her bedroom door behind her.

To her relief, the inside of her bedroom wasn’t a horrible mess. Her bed was unmade and there were some clothes strung about, but other than that Lily didn’t think she would be too mortified to let the Marauders look inside. She hurriedly made up her bed, fluffing the pillows and such, then quickly picked up the clothes and stuffed them deep inside her hamper. There was a pink bra hanging off the back of her desk chair.  _ That _ she crammed beneath her bed where no curious eyes would ever see.

Satisfied, Lily went back to the door and opened it. “If  _ anyone _ ”—she cast James and Sirius pointed glances—“snoops where they shouldn’t be, rest assured you will not live to see yourselves out of this room.”

“Aye aye,” Sirius said, smirking.

Remus looked at him, exasperated. “Lily, they’re prats. You don’t have to—”

“Oh, shut it, Lupin,” Lily interrupted, rolling her eyes. “I know you’ve deemed yourself the polite, respectful one, but I know you’re just as curious as your mates.” She smiled and shook her head. “It’s really not that big a deal.”

“Yeah,  _ Remus _ ,” Sirius said snidely. “You shouldn’t have befriended us if you didn’t want to get lobbed in every time we’re labeled as wretched.”

“Don’t I know it,” Remus muttered, shoving him.

Lily stepped out of the way, allowing the four of them to step inside. James went straight to her bulletin board, examining the pictures and papers pinned to it. “What?” he cried in mock outrage. “None of me?”

“When do you suppose I would have got a picture with you?” 

James cast his eyes to the ceiling, sighing loudly. “It’s not  _ about _ that, Evans.”

“Then what in Merlin’s name is it about?”

While James attempted to explain to her the logistics of stalkerish-ly pinning pictures of people you don’t know well to your bulletin board, Remus, Sirius, and Peter studied her chest of drawers and the mirror stuck with a number of different papers and trinkets.

“Bloody hell, Evans!” cried Sirius, startling Lily from her conversation with James. “You’ve got  _ Joscelind Wadcock _ ?”

“Er,” said Lily, with less eloquence than she would’ve liked. “I’ve got who?”

“Joscelind Wadcock,” Sirius repeated, slower, like he was talking to a child. When she continued to stare blankly at him, he shook his head in disgust and turned his attention to James. “Prongs, are you hearing this? Evans has Wadcock on a chocolate frog card and she doesn’t even know who it is!”

“You can’t be serious,” James said, then shot Sirius a glare and said, “Shut up.” Sirius cackled, obviously forgetting his indignance for a moment, but James ignored his mate’s lunacy, obviously used to it. “Lily, don’t tell me that’s true.”

“Sorry to disappoint,” said Lily. “Who is this Wadcock person? I pin all my chocolate frog cards to my mirror.”

“The  _ disrespect _ ,” Sirius spat, over his momentary bout of insanity. “ _ This Wadcock person _ is Puddlemere’s Chaser. She’s got the highest recorded number of goals during a season besides.” He snorted. “Honestly.”

“She’s brilliant,” James agreed, going all starry-eyed for a moment like he tended to when anything Quidditch-related was brought up. “And her card is bloody  _ rare _ .” He cast her a little smile. “Lucky bird, you are, Evans.”

Something warm blossomed in Lily’s chest that she deigned to ignore. 

“ _ Uninformed _ bird, more like,” Sirius grumbled. Remus patted his arm in consolation. “James, I’m ashamed that you’ve gone and enamoured yourself with someone who knows so little about Quidditch.”

Lily’s face went hot. She had a bad feeling she was starting to blend in with her hair. 

James ruffled his own mop of dark fringe and said, “She’s got her redeeming qualities.” His voice was nonchalant, but color tinged the tops of his cheekbones and the look he shot Sirius wasn’t exactly friendly.

Remus cleared his throat. “Padfoot, you’re a menace to society.” He took Joscelind Wadcock’s card from Sirius’s fingers and kindly stuck it back to Lily’s mirror. “Not everyone is as unhealthily obsessed with the sport as you.”

Sirius didn’t attempt to get the card back, but he still looked distinctly grumpy. “Don’t pretend you don’t love Quidditch just as much, Moony,” he said.

“I’m not,” Remus replied lightly, guiding Sirius away from the chest of drawers. “I just have the mental capacity to understand that not everyone shares that love.”

“Bloody mad, all of you,” Sirius said, but he quickly turned his head and shot Lily a wink. She grinned back. Yes, the lot of them had a knack for trouble she’d never seen in anyone else and felt confident she never would, but somehow—by accident, perhaps, sometime during sixth year—Lily’d grown quite fond of their antics. She wasn’t afraid to admit that, and she didn’t have to be. 

They’d grown up in all the ways that mattered since the years she used to bemoan their flaws, and she had too. For one, Severus wasn’t there anymore to judge all her fellow Gryffindors. Lily didn’t have to try and hide the parts of herself that Sev had preferred to ignore. Around her friends now, she could be whoever she wanted. She didn’t have to be that nine-year-old girl who’d run into that nine-year-old boy in the woods, caught up in terror of being different, thrilled to find someone else who seemed to have her same differences. 

She missed it sometimes, of course, but what she missed was never the Severus of today. When she missed Sev, she missed the way he’d used to grow flowers in his palms when she was upset. She missed the Sev who’d cared more about her than what people thought about him, but that Sev had been gone for years now.

If Lily turned her head toward the window, she knew she could make out the edge of the Snapes’ house down the street. It still looked the same as it had when she was nine. The view now was nothing more than a hollow ache in her chest. 

“Lily!” called her mother’s voice.

Lily turned, startled. “Yes, Mum?”

“Dinner is ready! Bring your friends!”

Sirius, Remus, and Peter had already made their way out of her bedroom, but James was still standing beside her, and Lily realized with a start that he’d been watching her.

He smiled when she caught his eye. “Alright?” he asked, a flicker of concern in his voice.

“Alright,” she said, then held out her hand.

James looked at her in surprise, face wrinkled in question, but Lily moved her hand pointedly towards him, and with a bemused little grin, James took it and let her lead him out of her room.

The others were waiting at the top of the stairs, and noticed Lily and James’s joined hands without much reaction at all. Peter said, “Hurry up, will you? I’m starved.”

Lily found there wasn’t much in that statement she could argue with, so she pulled James down the stairs after the others.

When they reached the kitchen, Iris stood at the island, smiling widely. The table was arranged far more extravagantly than Lily was used to when it came to lasagna dinners, but she supposed her mother was preparing for a rather large assortment of guests.

“Had fun?” asked Iris pointedly, and Lily realized she was staring at Lily’s hand where it was attached to James’s. Lily flushed, then cursed her stupid redhead genes for making her blush every five minutes and released James’s hand with a wince. 

“Plenty, Mrs. Evans,” said Sirius with his token charming, lazy grin. “Your house is beautiful.”

Lily wondered what he would do if she rammed him with a bit of rolled up newspaper and told him firmly to  _ never _ flirt with her mother again. She settled for glaring.

“Thank you,” said Lily’s mother. “You’re Sirius, right?”

Sirius’s grin didn’t waver. “That’s me.”

“Well, Sirius, I believe I told all of you earlier to call me Iris.”

“Of course,” replied Sirius with all his souped-up politeness. “Iris.”

Lily’s mother gave a nod of satisfaction. “Now, wash up for dinner. Petunia and Vernon will be here any minute.”

“I forgot to warn you,” Lily whispered to the boys as they lined up to wash their hands. “My sister is a devil. She hates me, and her blockhead of a boyfriend can’t think for himself so he hates me too.” She glanced over her shoulder to make sure her parents weren’t listening, then said, “She hates magic. It’s why she hates me.” Lily swallowed. “So just. . . keep that in mind.”

“I’m a seasoned vetran with unfortunate family members, Evans,” Sirius whispered back. “You can count on me.”

The tight knot of nerves in Lily’s gut loosened, if only a bit. She hadn’t thought of that. She gave Sirius a half-smile. “Thanks.”

He didn’t respond. The others watched her. James had heard of Petunia before, of course—she was Lily’s sister and one of Lily’s most painful secrets, and James was Lily’s friend who she felt comfortable speaking to about such things—but Lily had never taken into account that he might have to  _ meet _ her one day. He gave her a tiny smile that said more than any words could have.

Before the silence could grow awkward, James caught a glance of the telephone, and before Lily or Remus or Peter could think to shove themselves in front of it as to disguise it from his prying eyes, James said, “I’ve  _ heard _ of those.” He sounded entirely too excited.

Sirius leapt to his side. “A fellytone,” he declared proudly. “Remus has one. Remus, I’m going to call your mother.”

Remus made a noise of quiet exasperation. “You don’t know my mother’s number, Sirius. And for the last time, it’s  _ telephone _ .”

“That’s where you’re wrong, my dear Moony,” said Sirius, looking smug enough that Lily grew a bit concerned. “Iris, may I use your  _ telephone _ ?”

Iris looked up from where she was putting the finishing touches on the dinner table. “Of course, Sirius,” she said, a bit of confusion coloring her tones. “May I ask—?”

“He and James are purebloods,” Lily said quickly, because she wasn’t sure she wanted to hear Sirius’s explanation. “They aren’t—er, too well-acquainted with Muggle technology.”

“Oh!” exclaimed Iris, alight with delight and interest. “Pureblood means both your parents are magical, right?”

“Er,” said James, because admittedly, blood purity was a bit more complicated than that. Lily shot him a look. It wasn’t a conversation she was ready to introduce to either of her parents. He looked quickly away from her. “Essentially.”

Lily’s mother clapped excitedly. “Wonderful! Lily will show you both how to use the telephone.”

“We’ve used one before,” Sirius told her. “We’re practically experts now.”

“I wouldn’t say that,” muttered Remus. Peter snorted into his elbow.

James and Sirius fiddled about with the telephone, dialing and redialing what they claimed was the Lupins’ number. Lily watched them cheer and clap when they succeeded, and was about to mention that they should remember to speak in normal voices to the telephone when the front door opened to reveal a ruffled Petunia Evans and Vernon Dursley.

“Welcome!” called Henry from the hall. “Thank God. I’m starved.”

Petunia walked primly through the door, eying the elaborate table setup with obvious approval. Vernon said, “Mr. Evans. Mrs. Evans. How I’ve missed your beautiful home.” Lily’s eyebrows shot up; perhaps Tuney had scolded her boyfriend on his presumptuous first-name-calling.   
Iris twittered about, taking Vernon’s coat from him and hanging it on the rack beside the front door, because she was always polite and always a wonderful hostess. Henry, arms crossed, gave his eldest daughter a little wave-and-grin combination and spared Vernon nothing but a curt nod. Lily grinned into her shoulder.

Petunia’s pert, pink-painted lips parted in preparation for words, and Lily was already preparing an eye roll, but then her sister’s eyes flicked around the kitchen and Lily watched with a mixture of dread and anticipation as her face filled with confusion, then caution. 

“Hello,” said Petunia, still looking at where the Marauders had frozen in the middle of their actions, the phone stuck on its dial tone. Lily wasn’t surprised when her sister’s eyes flickered past her as if she wasn’t there at all, but landed instead on their mother, a question painted clearly in her gaze.

“I was going to mention over the phone,” said Iris, stepping aside as the Marauders straightened themselves into a better imitation of presentability. “Lily’s friends have. . . dropped by for dinner.”  
Like a slate wiped clean, Petunia’s face cleared of all emotion. She was cold and curt when she said, “What a surprise.”

Vernon was much less subtle in his distaste, but that could have just been his perpetual look of disgust. Lily was certain it had something to do with his strange, upturned stump of a mustache. 

The first to break the unpleasant silence was—Lily should have expected—Sirius, who swept himself away from the telephone with a grace only someone brought up to be a symbol of perfect breeding could accomplish. “Why, a surprise indeed,” he said, taking Petunia’s hand in his own and sweeping down to kiss it. “And what a wonderful one it is.”

Lily almost exploded into a bout of nervous giggles at the look on her sister’s face. She knew Petunia must have noticed Sirius’s notorious good looks, because the tips of her thin ears had colored, but she jerked her hand away with all the revulsion of someone forced to touch an unidentified lab specimen. 

“Don’t touch me!” she shrieked, her fury sudden and jolting, then clapped a hand over her mouth. Sirius looked surprised for a moment before schooling his features into roguish amusement. 

“Now, Petunia!” said Henry, looking appalled. Even he expected a bit of manners from his daughters. “What in the world was that for?”

Petunia, flushed an unattractive shade of purple by now, inhaled deeply. “My most sincere apologies,” she said through gritted teeth. “I dislike being touched by—by strangers.”

_ By freaks _ , Lily knew she wanted to say, but kept her mouth shut in a tight line. Sirius was starting to look like he did whenever he and the others pulled off a particularly sticky prank at Hogwarts, and Lily didn’t want to see what kinds of ideas were floating around in his head.

“Right,” said Lily, sliding in front of him. “Tuney, that’s Sirius Black, then by the telephone is James Potter, the tall one is Remus Lupin, and the shorter one is Peter Pettigrew. Boys, this is my sister Petunia and her boyfriend Vernon. Great!” she exclaimed, before anyone could make any more questionable remarks. “Now we all know each other. Let’s sit down, shall we?”

She could tell by the disappointed look Sirius shot her that she’d made the right decision in interrupting. She cuffed him on the shoulder, restraining a smile herself, and sat down at the dinner table. James sat beside her, and Lily expected Sirius to go beside him, but instead he moved to Petunia’s right. Vernon was on her left, and he looked darkly at the other boy before turning back forwards. 

Remus sat on Lily’s other side, casting her an apologetic look that she waved off, and Peter beside him. Lily’s parents sat themselves on either end of the table, Iris looking apprehensive and Henry delighted.

“This looks delicious, Mrs. Evans,” said James, smiling genuinely.

Iris cast him an exasperated look. “Lily, your friends are too polite for their own good,” she remarked lightly, picking up her fork. Lily snorted, ignoring the elbow James shoved into her ribs. “Thank you, James. I hope you enjoy it.”

The lasagna  _ was _ good—possibly the best Iris had ever made, which was quite a feat indeed—and for at least five minutes the table was quiet save for the scrape of utensils against plates and her parents’ occasional inquiries.

To no one’s surprise—he had a talent for disturbing any sort of peace—Vernon was the first to speak. “My father’s company is going splendidly,” he blustered. “Petunia was quite pleased to hear the news, so I suppose it would be selfish of me not to tell her wonderful parents.” He shot Iris and Henry a smile that might have been effective, had Vernon Dursley not been a generally slimy, dislikable person.

“Well, don’t leave us hanging,” said Lily’s father with only a touch of sarcasm. “What is it?”

“I’ve been offered a job as a salesman,” Vernon said, obviously not catching onto the irony. “The pay is quite lofty.” He shot Petunia a wink that Lily didn’t think she would ever be able to erase from her memory.  _ Ergh _ . “I’m sure I’d be able to handle a household quite comfortably with it.”

_ Please don’t tell me you’re insinuating what I think you’re insinuating _ , Lily thought, feeling a bit sick. Petunia  _ dating _ Vernon was wretched enough; she didn’t know if she could handle seeing them married. Her sister deserved better than that, despite all her flaws and she and Lily’s spoiled relationship.

Her father looked a bit disgruntled himself, but said only, “That’s certainly good news.”

“I thought so,” said Vernon, pleased by these empty words. Lily’s mother offered only a kind smile.

“What is it you do again?” asked Sirius, as if wondering about an old friend, his expression nothing but sincere, but Lily knew him well enough to recognize trouble when it was coming.

Vernon looked down his nose at him. “I didn’t tell  _ you _ ,” he said, with a few ounces of loftiness. But because he could never resist a good opportunity to boast, he continued, “But if you must know, my father owns Grunnings Drills. Until recently I worked the desk, but I’ve been promoted to a drill salesman.”

“Hm,” Sirius said, nodding his head in understanding, as if he knew the slightest bit what Vernon was talking about. “Very respectable, drills. They are the sharp, twisty things, correct?”

Remus choked on his lasagna. Lily patted his back in sympathy.

Vernon’s lip curled. “Do you not know what a  _ drill _ is?”

“Vern, I told you about Lily’s  _ condition _ ,” cut in Petunia pointedly, casting a disdainful look her sister’s way. “Her friends are similarly affected, I’m afraid.”

“Oh,  _ yes _ ,” James said with relish, unable to restrain himself any longer. Lily wondered if it was possible to melt into a puddle under the table and never speak to any of them again. “We are all  _ horribly _ ailed. It’s a very tragic situation, as you could assume, but spare us your prayers. We have a talent towards resilience.” 

Petunia was staring at him, mouth agape, as if she hadn’t considered that these peculiar strangers had minds and ears of their own. She recovered slowly, dabbing at the corner of her mouth delicately with her napkin and swallowing. “See, Vernon?” She narrowed her eyes. “They even admit it.”

“I see,” said Vernon, looking more disgusted by the minute. “Unfortunate, but it does make sense. They do seem. . . unnatural.”

“Of course we admit to it,” James replied cheerily, as if Vernon hadn’t spoken. “Despite all our abnormalities—and I assure you, there are far too many to count—we don’t deny our own flaws.” He said the word almost mockingly. “If we’ve made a mistake, we apologize for it. If we’ve hurt someone, we realize and act accordingly.” He gave a bland smile. “If we horribly mistreat our siblings for years on end over something they can’t control, we ask for forgiveness and pray, that though said sibling has no reason to give it and would be completely justified to shun us for the rest of our lives, they will understand. But of course, all that could just be a symptom of our unfortunate  _ condition _ .”

The table was silent, but this time it had nothing to do with the food. Lily stared at James, not sure if she should be horrified or furious or thankful. Her parents were frozen, forks hovering midair and mouths slack. The rest of the Marauders wore fierce expressions. Even Remus looked angry at Petunia.

“You know, Tuney,” said Henry at last, “I never thought I’d hear someone put you in your place so elegantly.” He placed his fork back on his plate with a little  _ clang _ . “I know your relationship has been complicated for some time now, but surely you’re old enough now to make an attempt at mending this old rift.”

Lily wasn’t sure she’d ever seen Petunia look this livid. She was trembling with the force of it, and beside her Vernon looked like he couldn’t decide to be nervous or follow her in her anger. “Oh, right,” spat Petunia, shaking off the hand Vernon put on her shoulder. “Right. Poor, helpless little Lily. She’s never done a thing wrong in her whole life. I nearly forgot. How silly of me. She’s your most prized creation. So kind and beautiful and  _ special _ .”

She stood with enough force to rattle every object on the table. “Well, you can sit through dinner with her and all her perfect, polite friends. That’s all you want, isn’t it? Who cares about Petunia when there’s  _ Lily _ ?” Her eyes were sharp and vicious. Their parents watched her. Tears sparkled in Iris’s eyes. Henry looked tired to his bones. 

“Come  _ on _ , Vernon,” Petunia snarled, and Vernon jumped to his feet, looking peaky. Petunia swept her purse off the marble countertop. “I don’t know when I’ll be back,” she snapped as she opened the door. “Don’t wait up.”

And with that, the front door slammed shut.

Lily dropped her face into her hands. Her eyes burned. She was embarrassed and angry and hurt and she didn’t want to look up and see all the faces staring her down.  _ Don’t cry _ , she thought desperately, knotting her fingers in her hair.  _ Don’t cry don’t cry don’t cry. _

“Fuck,” said James from beside her. “Fuck, Lil. I’m so sorry. I didn’t think—”

Lily shook her head. She didn’t lift it. “It doesn’t matter,” she said, and hated herself when the words came out choked and hoarse. “It’s not your fault. It doesn’t matter.” 

“Of course it matters,” he said, and Lily turned to face him. He was very pale, and he was starting to look truly miserable. “Of course it matters, Lily. I wasn’t—I didn’t—I just hated all the terrible things she and that—that brute were saying about you. I didn’t mean to make her so angry.”

She shut her eyes. “No,” she said, mouth moving of its own accord. “It was inevitable.” She swallowed, looking at him again. “It’s not your fault.”

“She’s right, dear,” said a soft voice, and Lily turned to her mother, who was looking at James with soft, sad eyes, as green as Lily’s own. “You were only trying to defend Lily, even if it was a bit untactful. Petunia is very defensive about things like that.”

James shook his head. “Mr. and Mrs. Evans. I can’t apologize enough.” He swallowed hard. “I was out of line. I hope you can forgive me, but if not, I want to tell you that I can tell why your daughter is so wonderful. She had good teachers.” He hesitated. “Also, your lasagna is ethereal.”

Lily gave a wet laugh. The shock was beginning to melt away, giving her a firmer grip on her emotions. “You’re so dramatic, James,” she said, as he looked at her in surprise. “You’re not banished from our home.”

Henry—to Lily’s surprise—was the next to speak. “Yes,” he said, dryly. “However terrible this dinner has been, at least we had the lasagna.” He gave James a reassuring smile and laid a hand on his shoulder. “Don’t worry too much about it, kid. I respect that you wanted to defend my daughter, even if she’s quite capable of doing it herself.”

“I’d like to apologize too,” said Sirius suddenly. “I started it.” His grin was sheepish and wry. “I tend to do that.”

Lily couldn’t argue with that. Her mother gave a little laugh. “Yes, well, one can only take so much of Vernon’s boasting. We’ve all been there.”

Lily stood then, before the conversation could continue. “But the four of you should leave,” she said, with a firmness she wasn’t quite feeling. All the faces looked up at her in surprise. She shook her head. “I’ll see you all tomorrow night. I just need some—some time.”

She was surprised when her mother didn’t make a move to scold her for her abruptness. Instead, Iris gave Lily a little smile, full of sympathy and reassurance. 

“Of course,” said Remus, standing. The others followed in his wake, but not before taking their dishes up to the sink. “You’ve been wonderful hosts and better cooks. Thank you.”

They followed Lily out of the dining room and back into the living room, coming to a stop before the fireplace. 

“Lily—” 

“Stop,” said Lily, before James could continue. “I’m not angry with you, okay? I just need some time to myself. I know what you were trying to do. I know you couldn’t have known how Tuney would respond.” She shook her head again. “I mean,  _ I _ wouldn’t have even guessed she’d do that. Honestly, it’s probably better now that everything's out in the open.” 

“I’m still sorry,” said James, because he was stubborn and loyal and ridiculous. “I knew what I was saying and that she wouldn’t be happy to hear it.”

“James,” said Remus heavily from beside him, laying a hand on his shoulder. “Leave it for now, alright? If Lily says she isn’t angry, she isn’t angry.”

“I’m not,” Lily said pointedly, trying her best to be logical. “I’m upset. My sister just screamed to half the people in my life that she resents my every breath. It’s only natural.” The words were ripe with a mirth she didn’t feel. “I’ll see you tomorrow night.”

James held her gaze for a moment more, then nodded. “Okay.” He swallowed. “You still have the invitation?”

Lily pulled the crumpled parchment out of her pocket and brandished it before him. When he turned towards the fireplace—Sirius had tossed some Floo powder in already—Lily remembered something. 

“Wait!” she said. The four of them turned. “I just. . . how did you manage to Floo to my house? It’s not on the network.”

“It  _ wasn’t _ on the network,” James corrected, and smiled a little. “Er—it was Sirius’s idea, actually. He thought it’d be good if you had a way out in case—” The smile faded. “Well, in case anyone ever found you. Which reminds me.” He turned to Sirius. “Padfoot, did you bring extra Floo powder?”

Sirius scoffed. “Do you think me a fool, Prongs?” He handed James the brown pouch clutched in his hand. He shook his head. “There is no loyalty left here.”

James held it out to Lily. “Tomorrow, all you’ll need to do is say, “Potter Manor” to the fireplace and the Floo’ll take you right to my house.”

_ Manor _ , Lily thought. She’d forgotten the Potters were rich. She nodded. “Thanks.” Despite all her inner turmoil, there was a warm little glow in her chest. It was awfully thoughtful of them to think of something like that. 

He raised a hand in a wave. “See you then.” James vanished into the fire.

Sirius followed with a two-fingered salute, Remus clambering after him with a quick, “Happy late Christmas, Lily.”

“Bye, Lily,” said Peter, and he too stepped into the fire. The emerald flames subsided, returning to their usual orangey glow, and Lily exhaled. 

_ What a night. _

**Author's Note:**

> i hope you enjoyed. if you made it this far ily. reviews will give me so much serotonin i will be doing cartwheels for at least a week (1 week of cartwheels per review ofc) :D


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